


Take Your Time

by trainercap



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), M/M, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-19 15:44:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16537487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trainercap/pseuds/trainercap
Summary: Amami never considered himself unsociable. He always thought he was approachable: calm, cool and collected. Yet, after more than enough encounters with Kokichi Ouma, who has the toughest walls of any human he's ever met, he starts to reconsider his people skills.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I've noticed a severe lack of Oumami fics, soooo... I'll just do it myself! This is going to be a multi-chapter fic, and should update every Friday afternoon unless I get off track. I hope you enjoy.

Had it not been for the constant jerk of the train tracks, Amami could have easily fallen asleep in his seat. Every time his head roll forward to the lull of sleep, the jump of the cart would yank him back into posture. After at least four attempts of dozing off, he finally gave up on the thought of getting even a bit of rest. He straightened his shoulders and raised his head (not without a few uncomfortably loud cracks of his neck), only to be shocked with the sight of someone else sitting right in front of him.

It wouldn’t be an understatement to say it was the dead of night. He had grabbed the 1AM train, the very last one that went to his town before it shut down until morning, and he _never_ saw someone else get on this late.

Maybe he wouldn’t have been so surprised if he saw this man coming, or heard him, or even notice the train stop, yet he couldn’t think any hints of just how whoever this stranger was appeared before him.

Amami’s eyes shut, then opened again slowly. He couldn’t see his face, but he must have looked absolutely dumbfounded. This man— or _boy_ , based on the tiny physique, met his gaze with sharp eyes. How long had he been waiting for him to notice? (And wasn’t there a curfew for kids his age?)

He clearly had stared too long, as the stranger’s voice raised over his thoughts.

“Do I look good?” Though the dark shadows cast over his face, it was still obvious the stranger was smiling, or perhaps smirking. Amami wasn’t sure how to react— what did he even mean by that?

And not only that, there was no way that was a kid. His voice wasn’t particularly masculine, but it was definitely deeper than some 12 year old who wandered too late at night.

This same voice filled the silence again. “I’ll take your speechlessness as a ‘yes’. It’s very kind of you to compliment me like that! We’ve never even met before— the kindness of strangers these days, it really astounds me..”

He sure was talkative. Amami could only assume that if he stayed silent that he’d only talk more, which he wasn’t in the mood for after such a long day. He piped up without a care for interrupting his speal. “Are you lost? I’ve never seen you before. Especially on the train this late. I mean, I never see people this late in general.”

The intervention caught the stranger off guard for a second or two, before his eyes of surprise morphed into sadness. Amami could have sworn he saw tears building up. What’d he do? “I am not lost, I’m homeless! My mother always said she’d kick me out when I turned eighteen, but I could have sworn she was bluffing! Yet, today, as soon as I woke up, my birthday gift was being shoved onto the street! I cannot find any place to live, and I most certainly have no way of getting a job that pays more than minimum wage! I don’t even know how to make a resume!”

That story seemed more than outlandish, yet the possibility of him faking went right over Amami’s head. Concern bubbled in his chest at the thought of someone being kicked out like that. What if it was him, or one of his sisters?  “That’s terrible. Do you need help..? My dad owns a company, maybe he could…”

A smile breaking out on the stranger’s face was the last thing Amami expected. A wide smile, eyes creasing with joy. “That was a lie. I’d never stoop so low as to live on the streets. I’d rather die.”

Amami grasped for any understanding of the situation at hand, eyebrows furrowing in contempt. Before he knew it, the stranger rose from his seat. He assumed he might have been leaving the train and going home, yet he walked towards Amami and plopped in the seat to his right.

“You’re very quiet,” the boy leaned towards Amami, punctuating his voice. When Amami didn’t come to his own defense, he continued. “I’m beginning to get bored. Did I really come over here for nothing? I was hoping getting closer would make you stop being so grouchy!”

“Ah,” Amami started, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat. There wasn’t much else he could do but put up with the kid until his stop. “Who...are you? Like, what’s your name?”

“Ouma. What about you? Actually, never mind, I don’t care. I wouldn’t want to associate with someone as disgusting as you. Is your hair naturally green, or is it just the sewage water?” The stranger punctuated his words by reaching for a strand of Amami’s hair and twirling it around his fingers, but only succeeded for a few seconds before Amami shoved his arm away and leaned back.

Another one of those strange smiles. Amami couldn’t quite pinpoint the emotion that came from them. It was so insincere, yet, it was a smile nonetheless. Maybe he was proud? His eyelashes shielded his eyes, and from the angle of his face he couldn’t see his pupils at all. “That’s a lie. I think you’re beautiful. As soon as I saw you from across the train, I could have sworn that I fell for you. You’ve made me believe in love at first sight, I’m not sure if I can ever leave your side again.”

God, Amami was exhausted. Since when was he this tired? A hand raised to his eyes, rubbing  them far from gently with the tips of his fingers. He sunk down further into his coat, letting the collar obscure his face from Ouma.

“Didn’t you hear me? I’m in love with you. Are you breaking up with me?” Ouma’s voice shook, and he leaned closer, clinging to his arm. “Please, no, I can’t live without you!” He began to wail, a cry shaking him to the core.

“Ah, stop it!” Amami perked up, cautiously raising a hand in defense to Ouma. He’d pulled the tears earlier, yet now it seemed a lot more intense. He couldn’t help but feel guilty. “Don’t cry, I—”

“Just kidding.” In no more than 3 seconds, the waterworks completely stopped, and he was back to his normal state, a tight-lipped smile on his face as he wiped his tears. “Maybe you’ll catch on, soon. I don’t tell the truth. I’m a liar. It’s my thing!”

Amami’s gaze contorted at Ouma. The purple-haired boy had yet to let go of his arm, and he looked up at Amami with a shine in his eyes. His grin seemed to resemble more of a smirk now.

He was never so glad to hear the train hiss to a stop, and he stood immediately, shaking Ouma off his arm like some kind of clingy child. The speed at which he stood nearly made him tumble back to the ground, but he stepped forward to the door of the train with little worry. Amami spared one last glance at the stranger, who sat up straight with gloved hands on his thighs and met his gaze with intense eyes, and he walked off the train.

“Goodbye, Amami-kun.~”

The chill of the winter air hit his face immediately, and he let out a huff of warmth. Amami hurried off towards his house, each step making an echoing crack in the silence of the night. His eyes fluttered, whether it be from the drowsiness weighing him down or the breeze that wisped through his eyelashes.

It took a few minutes of walking until Amami reconsidered the interaction between him and that boy. What was his problem? He’d never seen a stranger that… well, strange. Who could be that comfortable with getting in someone’s face after just a few seconds of eye contact?

...And how did he know his name?

Amami couldn’t recall _ever_ telling him his name before he left. He was certain he didn’t, in fact. He wasn’t popular in any way, he blended right in. There was no reason for him to know!

He shoved his hands back in his pockets, and felt around for his phone as some type of distraction from the thought. Amami paused in his tracks as he searched deeper, grumbling when he couldn’t feel his phone. Instead, he tried the back pockets. Nothing. He tried his front pockets. _Nothing._

Amami had never lost his phone, and he absolutely wasn’t about to start now. He tried each of his pockets again, in some desperate hope that he may had just missed it, but it was gone.

Now stopped on the sidewalk, Amami scrambled for what to do. He couldn’t go check the train, it was already passed by now and wouldn’t be back for 4 hours, and he wouldn’t really want to risk seeing that weird kid again either.

Instead of worrying about the situation further, Amami began to sprint his way home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter one of Amami’s sisters is introduced: Aimi. I hope you don’t mind my personal opinions of his sisters, they’re not going to be WAY too important to remember, but a few of them may show up more than once. Another of his sisters is mentioned too, but only once. :)

“Nii-san! Wake up, now!”

Amami stirred, arm laying over his eyes. It felt as if he grew even more drowsy from his sleep, and could only hope to try and shake it off. “Aimi— Let me sleep. I don’t have work today.”

“It’s 2:45 in the afternoon! Papa said you _need_ to get up.” Amami could hear as his youngest sister’s footsteps grew closer, until she stood directly beside him. He peered one eye open and shut it as soon as he saw her, but it didn’t go unnoticed. “You’re awake! Out of bed!”

Without any chance to fight back, his sister grabbed ahold of his wrist and yanked him back. She wasn’t nearly strong enough to drag him off the bed (she was only eight, after all,) but the nagging feeling was still there.

Amami figured it was much too late to bargain with her to let him stay. He craned his arm out of Aimi’s grip and pushed himself up on the bed, then reached to his nightstand for his phone. It took a few seconds of rummaging across the piles of papers before he remembered he didn’t have his phone anymore. He paused, shooting a glare towards the desk as if it was it’s fault that he didn’t have his phone.

Wonderful.

His sister took notice, too. “Your phone. You always have your phone, where is it?”

A lighthearted chuckle left Amami, yet his brain raced for an excuse. He was never good at lying, especially right to his family’s face. “I let my friend borrow it.”

“Your friend? What’s her name? Are you dating?”

“Ah, calm down, it’s nothing like that,” when Amami got to his feet, kicking over the covers and his sister immediately went for his hand. It was almost pitiful how short she was compared to him, but Amami took it as a plus of being a big brother. Aimi dragged him forward with a purpose, to which Amami struggled to follow. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to his sister’s raw energy this early in his day.

By the time she lead him downstairs, he had almost recollected himself. The grogginess weighing on his shoulders seemed to fade away, and he was at least able to keep his eyes open. She brought him straight to the kitchen, and then stood proudly in the middle of the room. There was clear intention in her action, that she must have done something worth of her brother’s praise.

Amami tried his best to pinpoint why exactly she was so pleased with herself with his gaze traveling across the counters. It caught onto the coffee pot, filled to the brim, and still steaming with warmth.

“Oh, did dad make me this?” Amami approached the coffee pot with a smile, grabbing the handle with one hand and the closest travel cup with the other.

“No, I did,” Aimi boasted with all her power, the widest grin he’d ever seen on her face.

Amami was glad he hadn’t pulled the coffee pot out yet, since he most certainly would have dropped it on the floor. “You made the coffee?”

His sister’s face morphed in confusion, her smile still cocky, unsure of why Amami seemed so shocked. “Yes, of course. I wanted to give you a wake-up gift..?”

His throat strained as he tried to laugh it off, taking his hand off of the pot and putting the mug down on the counter. He twisted his body to gape at his sister. “Aimi… you could have burnt yourself, and I’d never live that down,” Amami smiled, yet the authority he held was obvious by his blunt voice.

“I was so careful, nii-san! No way I’d ever hurt myself on some stupid coffee pot.” Amami’s worry seemed to fly right over her head, and he couldn’t really complain. He sighed, turning back to the counter. Now that he had it in mind he could notice the remains of her work scattered across the countertops. The coffee brew was tipped over, powder spilling from the top. Water soaked the counter, supposedly from her attempts of filling the coffee machine with nothing but glass cups, which surrounded the machine. At least the thought was there.

“Thank you very much, Aimi, but maybe you should wait until I can help you next time, yeah?” Amami stammered, keeping his worry under wraps. His sister lagged behind him the entire time he poured his coffee into the mug, awaiting his response to her wonderful gift. He continued to catch glimpses of her jumping from one side to the other, getting a better view of Amami’s task.

“Calm down, now. You’re going to get yourself all worked up,” Amami chided. “You can see me just fine from one spot.”

“I’m sorry nii-san— I’m just really excited! I’ve never made coffee before, and I know you like it, so,” Aimi placed her hands on the counter, pulling herself up and leaning across it til her feet were off the ground.

Amami pursed his lips while he stared at the coffee filling his cup. It looked normal, and it smelled alright, but knowing his sister he feared something about it had to be strange. He tipped the pot back once his cup was full, and placed it back in its rightful place. He left the mug to cool as he went to the fridge, his sister still following close behind. There was no use in shooing her off, as she’d follow one way or another.

He grabbed the creamer and returned to the countertops without closing the fridge behind him, pouring in just enough to turn the coffee into a light brown. Amami wasn’t sure he’d ever seen his sister watch with such focus. He stirred the creamer in further with the flick of his right wrist, using his left hand to shove the bottle back in and shut the fridge back. Her eyes gaped up at him, shining with joy as he went to take his first sip.

It was, for lack of a better word, awful.

She had put way too much powder in, and he wasn’t even sure that she used a filter. Amami resisted the urge to cringe at the bitter taste, or the clumps of powder that followed, and flashed Aimi a tender smile. She quickly met his approval with a beam, jumping into the air and yanking his arm. “Oh, it’s so good, isn’t it? I should make you coffee every single morning! I’ll wake you up tomorrow, and the next day..”

“Aimi, it’s alright. I’m very glad you made it for me today, but, I think I want to make it from now on,” Amami spoke softly, in an attempt to calm her down. His praise only made her more excited, he could have sworn she was shaking when she grasped his arm tighter.

“I’m the _best_ sister. I’m telling everyone else that you said I’m your favorite.”

“But, I didn’t, sis,” Amami couldn’t help the kind-hearted smirk on his face, placing the lid on his mug and wriggling his arm away from Aimi. “I need to be going. You should probably clean off this counter, before Emiko comes in here and tears you up for the mess. She knows you’re the only one capable of being this destructive.”

“Ah, really?! You’re not going to help?!” Aimi cried out, looking devastated.

“It’s not my mess,” Amami spoke with a sense of authority, yet his words were still cushioned by his grin. Before he could listen to his little sisters cries of protest, he trekked to the coat rack near the front door, placing the warm mug on the desk. He grabbed the same long black coat from last night, the same one he lost his phone in, and shrugged it over his shoulders, kicking the door open with his foot while his fingers worked the buttons, without a care to pick the mug back up.

It wasn’t nearly as freezing as it had been last night, but the nip of the winter air still made him shudder. Amami fastened his coat tighter, and began walking the distance to the train station. The sounds of civilization increased in volume the closer he got to the heart of his town: couples chatting, pestering mothers, crying children, panting dogs, and heavy footsteps. It was rare that the sound actually registered in his head, he could have sworn it always turned into nothing but white noise, but now seemed different. Maybe this is what people meant when they tell you to put your phone down and disconnect? Strange, he didn’t like it at all. It was far from calming.

He shoved his way through the crowd of people, murmuring the occasional “sorry,” when he pushed someone too hard or elbowed them on his way. Once he arrived at the train station, he let out a sigh of relief, taking a seat at the nearest empty bench. He shrugged his shoulders up and sunk into his coat, hands folding neatly over each other on his lap. Amami stared ahead towards the railroad, hoping that his scrutinizing glare might make the train come faster.

It didn’t work.

With a hard sigh, Amami leaned his head into the back of the bench. He was almost ashamed of how dependant on his phone he was, with absolutely no distractions or way to pass the time while waiting for the train. He glanced over at the clock that hung by the map of the railroads. 3:10. The next train wouldn’t be here for another twenty minutes, much to Amami’s disappointment.

However, the very last thing Amami expected was a short man shoved into his side, much more eager to see him than he was comfortable with. “Amami-kun! What a strange coincidence! You must be following me, have you really grown that attached after one meeting?”

Amami, though ever weary of the stranger, had a smile creep onto his face. “Ah… Ouma, was it? I’m sorry, I’m a bit forgetful,” his voice trailed off at the end, and he now glanced at the reoccuring stranger, noticing things he wasn’t able to see when shrouded in darkness.

He didn’t blame himself for at one point thinking he might have been a lost child, even his facial features screamed nothing but childish. Amami wondered if either his eye or hair color were natural (though he had no room to talk, since his hair wasn’t the most normal natural color either.) His bangs were split between his eyes and framed his face to make it appear even more sweet. Ouma also sported a tight scarf. It spilled from around his neck and seemed like much too much fabric for _one_ scarf, but Amami wouldn’t judge that either. Maybe he was just prone to the cold.

“Stop staring at me! You’re making me so insecure,” Ouma cried out, drawing a bit more attention than Amami would have prefered. “I can’t believe this! I really tried to make myself look perfect today, and you just crushed all my hopes! I never want to speak to you again.”

Ouma’s eyes bore into Amami’s, making the man shift nervously. “I never said you looked bad, I was just getting a good look at you, since I couldn’t see you last night..?”

The response drew a pleased look from the smaller, fluttering his eyelashes. “Oh, well that’s alright, I couldn’t care any less about what you think of me. You could want me dead, for all I care, I wouldn’t do a thing to stop you.” The giggle that followed left Amami uncomfortable, scooting away from the smaller who followed as soon as he noticed, and pressed him into the arm on the bench.

“Amami-kun, it was so strange,” Ouma’s innocent facade put Amami off promptly. “Just last night after you got up and left, your phone slipped out of your pocket! Lucky for you, I got it for you as soon as I saw it,” a sweet smile took Ouma’s place, and he pulled the phone he missed so much from his jeans. “I charged it last night, too. You better thank me.”

Amami gawked at his phone in Ouma’s hand, which made the boy grumble. “Are you going to take it or what? I mean, I’d gladly take a free phone, this looks pretty expensive!”

“No, I apologize for staring,” Amami laughed airily. “I just didn’t expect to ever find it again, I guess.” He took his phone back, feeling Ouma’s fingers brush across his briefly. Ouma peered at Amami again, and he couldn’t help but notice the way he looked right through him, instead of straight on.

When their eyes caught they took their time staring at each other, into each other, trying to figure out what they were seeing. Examining each other closely. It took a moment before Amami blinked it off, and he cleared his throat. Ouma made no attempt to look away, only smiling sheepishly. mami turned his head away now, in some hopes that Ouma would take a hint and tear his eyes away. He still felt his vision boring into his head, even as he looked aside.

Ouma moved himself closer yet to Amami, leaning his arm onto his shoulder. The obvious height difference gave Ouma a bit of a struggle, but he never considered giving up. Amami was conflicted, unsure of what he was supposed to do. This practical stranger seemed so comfortable with him, like they’d known each other for years, even if he doesn’t even know a thing about him besides his name. In fact…

“How do you know my name?”

Ouma quirked an eyebrow, raising his head to meet Amami’s glare. “Your name, Amami-kun? Ah, you’re such a fool! I know it because you had it on you, silly! Did you forget the nametag you had attached to your coat? In big bold letters, ‘ _ **Amami**_ ’.”

Amami stupidly glanced down at his coat, shifting the collar to try and see if what he said was right. A few seconds of twisting in his clothes later, lighthearted cackles sounded next to his ear.

“That was a lie! I found you name on your phone,” the boy mused. “It didn’t take long. You have, like, too many sisters to count, all with the last name ‘Amami’, so… Amami-kun!”

Amami glowered at Ouma, a look that didn’t make him flinch in the slightest. “So you took my phone, then? You pickpocketed me.”

Ouma took full offense of his words, covering his mouth in shock. “Me? Pickpocketing? That’s a crime, Amami-kun. I would never, ever commit such a disgusting action. I can’t believe you’d ever accuse me of such a thing. I’m so, so, so ashamed of you!” The further on in his sentence he went, the more emotional he got, tears streaming in rivers down his cheeks. “I can’t believe it, I really can’t!”

His shoulders tensed as several eyes drew to the source of the wailing. Amami felt ashamed that he was now sitting next to this _child_ , screaming at the top of his lungs like his life depended on it. “Stop it,” Amami bit under his breath, feeling as if he was responsible for scolding some weird kid. “Stop it, now! People are going to think you’re in trouble, I’m not even doing anything to you.”

Ouma pitiful cries bubbled into laughter, the nasty look that broke through his eyelashes making Amami grow agitated. What was wrong with this kid? Why did he feel the need to act like this? Did he treat everyone he met like this? Amami stood up, shaking Ouma from him like he was nothing. He made a beeline forward to where the train would inevitably pull up sometime soon, and kept his back to the boy. When there was no other disturbance for at least a full minute, he released his tense shoulders and sighed, grabbing his phone. Finally, he _finally_ took a hint.

By the time the train pulled up, Amami almost felt guilty. He wasn’t really sure why. Ouma was a complete stranger to him! All he’d done to him was steal his phone and embarrass him in public, why should he give a shit if he left him behind? Ouma was an adult, probably. He could deal with life on his own! Maybe he could go make some friends that weren’t Amami, or learn how to make friends in the first place.

A gravely breath left his nose, and he began to swipe through his phone. Ouma hadn’t opened any apps (or if he did, he erased the evidence of it), yet a sneaking suspicion still left him unsure. He went through his texts first, nothing. At least Ouma didn’t try and sabotage him, since it seems like something he’d get a kick out of. There were no calls made, no voicemails read, no emails sent… Maybe he really did just hold his phone for the night, except, what was the point in that, then? Why not just leave Amami’s phone alone?

Amami grinded his bottom lip through his teeth, continuing to swipe through any app he could think of. His social media, his photos, his notes, nothing. No changes to his phone.   _Maybe that’s the point,_  Amami thought. _Maybe he just wanted to freak me out, that’s all._

In one final attempt to prove himself wrong, he double checked all his apps until something caught his eyes. He had no outgoing calls, yet, he did have a new contact. Amami pressed his lips so tightly together that he swore his face went white.

 _ **Kokichi Ouma**_ was now a contact in his phone, with a number that was surely in working service, yet Amami didn’t do anything to find out. He powered down his phone and shoved it back into his coat pocket, deciding he’d rather stay disconnected until further notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, chapter two! thanks for reading this far. :) a bit more interaction between amami and ouma, i hope you like it.  
> comments and kudos mean the world to me!

**Author's Note:**

> I personally think this chapter is a bit short. Don't worry, the other chapters I already have written are much longer.  
> Every kudo and comment means the world to me!


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